


If I Should Meet Thee After Long Years

by hesperia



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2013-04-12
Packaged: 2017-12-08 07:47:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/758871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hesperia/pseuds/hesperia





	If I Should Meet Thee After Long Years

It is snowing when Jeyne Stark makes her way across the covered bridge to the armory, stopping to look out the open window to watch her boys spar in the yard under Dolorous Edd's supervision. 

Her oldest Brynden will celebrate his tenth name day at the turn of the moon, and Jeyne can hardly believe its been so long. He looks like his father, auburn haired and dark blue eyes. Robb, her second son, is as tall as his brother, though three years younger, and he too is the spitting image of his father, dark black curls and grey eyes. 

She wonders how many times Lady Catelyn stood on this bridge, how many times she watched two little boys so similar to Jeyne's own. _But I love them both equally_ Jeyne thinks, and she knows Lady Catelyn had never been able to. 

She finds him in the armory, sharpening Longclaw as she has seen him do hundreds of times before. Jon looks older now, they both do, and his dark hair has more grey in it now than it did even a year ago. He looks up from the sword and smiles when he sees her, a smile that creates a warmth in Jeyne's chest, which spreads out to every limb, to the tip of every finger and toe. It is a smile she will never tire of, will never stop loving. 

"My lady," he says, with a soft voice, putting down the sword to go to her. "You are a pleasant surprise." He cups her face in his hands, pressing his lips against hers in a gentle kiss that she reciprocates, her own hands flat upon his chest. 

Their love had been slow to take seed all those years ago, when she had come with the Blackfish to the Wall. Jeyne had nursed him back from the edge of death, like she had done with his brother, and while her belly swelled with Robb's child, it was Jon who had slowly and surely filled her heart. It was Jon who had made her feel whole again, who had been the first to hold her son in his arms and declare that he would take Stannis' offer to be Lord of Winterfell, if only so that Brynden could inherit what was his by right. 

"I saw the boys are in the yard with Ser Eddison," Jeyne says when they part. "They look so old now, where did my little boys go?" 

Jon laughs, presses a kiss to her temple. "Take heart, my lady, Esmund is only just walking, and Dalla has not yet had her first name day, or is this your way of saying you want another already?" 

Jeyne smiles, but shakes her head, resting it against Jon's chest. "No..." she pauses, and looks up at him with a secret smile. "Sam has given his maester's blessing, you may return to my bed." Thea's birth had been an easy one, but Jeyne's body had not healed quite so easily as the first three. It has been five moons since they have truly lain together, and while they have been able to find the intimacy they craved in other ways, the idea of being able to take Jon inside her is thrilling to Jeyne, as exciting as that first time seven years ago. 

"Thank the Gods," Jon sighs into her hair. "I have missed you so."

"And I you," Jeyne replies, standing on the tips of her toes to press her mouth against his jaw, peppering it with small, soft kisses until her mouth finds his, wet and open, his tongue slipping along her own, deepening their kiss. 

Jon's kisses became more urgent, passionate, and he presses Jeyne back against the wall of the armory, his hands tight on her hips. "I would have you now," he growls against her neck, his teeth nipping at her skin. 

"Here?" Jeyne is breathless from Jon's kisses, but she twines her arms around his neck when he picks her up and sets her down onto the lone table in the room. "And how would you have me, my Lord?" she asks, her fingers pulling at the ties of her dress until it falls open. 

"Like this," Jon says, his small dagger slicing the ties of her stays, and Jeyne laughs at his impatience. He drops to his knees in front of the table and Jeyne's breath stops in the anticipation of what she knows is coming. His mouth is hot on her cunt, his tongue teasing and stroking until she wet and aching, wanting so much more than his mouth can give her. 

"Jon, please," Jeyne asks softly, looking down at him between her spread legs. He smiles at her, nips at the inside of her thigh with his teeth but makes haste to stand and pull open the placket, and he wastes no time, sliding into her with one powerful thrust. It does not feel like it has been so long to Jeyne, with Jon above her, one large hand splayed between her breasts and the other on her hip, it is as though all the times that came before are but faint memories in her mind. 

Jon is not one for lewd comments, he is as he has always been, silent and stoic, her rock in the storm, but Jeyne finds it delights her to hear him curse softly under his breath, his breathing heavier and more ragged with each thrust. "Oh Jeyne, seven hells...fuck..." He leans himself over her, pressing his face against her neck, sucking on the thin, soft skin over her collarbone. 

Jeyne is also close to her peak, and she urges her hips up, wanting more friction from him, wanting it harder and faster, the ache so overwhelming she feels she might implode with it. Her chest seizes when the door opens with a slam and Jon stills inside her with a curse and groan as she pulls her dress up over the side of her body. Though decorum is all but lost as Maester Sam sputters and apologizes for interrupting. "Go!" Jon yells with a laugh, and the door closes as Jeyne and Jon fall to pieces with laughter. 

"Poor Sam," Jeyne says, curling a lock of Jon's hair around her finger. "Should you go after him?" Jon is still hard inside of her and he raises an eyebrow at her question as he begins to slide from her. "Stop," she says, her hand coming around to curl over his ass, to hold him against her, to keep him inside of her. "Sam can wait."


End file.
